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“Not exactly. I’ve reviewed every angle he could have left but didn’t.” I look at him confused, so he adds, “We need a roster of hotel employees who worked, didn’t show, or called in sick on the day of the wedding.”
“Do you think he walked out the front door?”
With a smirk, he shrugs. “It’s the only logical answer. He isn’t Houdini. He had to leave somehow.”
“Do you think he works for the hotel?”
“No, but someone gave him credentials to pass as an employee. How else would he have gone in and out undetected?”
I nod, understanding where he’s going with this. “I can get the hotel roster for that day.” I take out my cell and dial Viktor.
It rings a few times before he answers. “If you’re calling to check in on us, we’re fine.”
“Not exactly, but thanks for the update,” I chuckle.
“Then what?” He is now on alert.
“We need a roster of the hotel employees who worked, didn’t show up, or called in sick the day of the wedding.”
“Did you find something?”
I shrug. “Not sure. Angus has a theory.”
“You’ll have it in minutes. I want an update in an hour.”
“I’ll call you.” I end our call, then lock eyes with Angus. “We should have it in a few minutes.”
“Good,” he replies with a nod.
Maybe this is the lead we’ve been searching for. When we identify the shooter, we’ll uncover who paid him to kill Ava.
A few minutes later, I get a ping from Viktor telling me to check my email. I print the list immediately. It’s longer than Angus and I anticipated.
It takes us an hour to narrow it down, leaving us with five men who either didn’t show up or called in sick. One of the employees on the list must have interacted with the hitman, which is how we will find him. But the list is still too long.
Viktor expects me to find the man responsible for the attempt against Ava, so I head uptown to visit one of the men on our list. Angus accompanies me because he refuses to let me go alone. Even though I told him splitting the list would be a better use of our time.
“Ready?” I ask Angus as I pull onto the curb of our address.
“Aye.”
The neighborhood is sketchy. There are bars on windows and two vehicles whose tires have been removed parked out front. When we enter the building, the lights barely illuminate the stairs. There isn’t anyone in sight. We take the stairs to the third floor, drawing our guns when we reach the door.
I knock, but there’s no response.
“Take a step back,” Angus orders me. He kicks the door open, and we’re immediately met with the stench of something rotten. “Dead body. Don’t touch anything.”
When he walks deeper into the apartment, I follow his lead. He stops at the bathroom door. A man is slumped on the toilet, and a bullet has apparently gone through his head. There’s brain matter everywhere, and he looks and smells like he’s been dead for a few days.
“It’s a dead end,” Angus continues to check out the apartment.
“The hitman is covering his tracks,” he says, still walking.
“What are you searching for?”
“Anything that doesn’t belong.” It’s a few seconds before he speaks again. “Time to go.”
“How are you so good at this?”
